"Just don't make a mess," Rina muttered as she finally let herself rest, curling up in the chair, her body aching with exhaustion. She could still hear the soft rustle of Dabi shifting on the couch, his movements slow and deliberate.
"Mess?" he scof...
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The bar was alive with its usual hum of rough voices, clinking glasses, and the bass-heavy music that thudded in the background. Rina moved from table to table with her usual calm efficiency, taking orders and delivering drinks. Midnight Ember was crowded tonight, filled with its usual blend of outcasts, antiheroes, and those looking to lose themselves in the dark glow of neon lights and heavy shadows.
A few regulars waved her over, and she exchanged brief nods with them, keeping her distance but acknowledging their presence. Midnight Ember's clientele preferred quiet servers, people who knew when to keep to themselves. Rina fit that description perfectly.
Then, as she was setting a tray down on the bar counter, the front door swung open with a loud creak. A group of thugs sauntered in, their heavy footsteps and loud voices cutting through the usual murmur of the bar. Instantly, the energy in the room shifted. The regular patrons went silent, casting wary glances at the newcomers, who were obviously not here for the drinks or atmosphere.
Rina recognized the type instantly—low-level enforcers looking to make a show of strength. They were dressed in dark, worn-out leather and covered in faded tattoos, with an air of cocky bravado that suggested they were used to getting their way. She set her jaw and continued polishing a glass, hoping they wouldn't cause a scene. But she couldn't help noticing how their eyes scanned the room with a sharp, pointed focus.
One of the men, taller than the others and sporting a scar that ran from his jaw to his ear, locked eyes with her as he approached the bar. His lips curled in a smirk as he looked her up and down.
"We're looking for Tat," he said, his voice low but loud enough to carry across the bar. "He here?"
Rina kept her expression neutral, maintaining her steady, unbothered gaze. "He's busy right now," she replied calmly. "Maybe try back later."
The man raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed by her response. He leaned in closer, his breath laced with alcohol and cigarettes. "Busy, huh? Tell him Jiro's crew needs a word. We're not the kind to wait."
Rina didn't flinch, though she felt the weight of their stares pressing on her. She didn't know much about Jiro's crew, but their reputation preceded them. They were known for being messy, the kind of lowlife troublemakers who always left chaos in their wake.
"I can pass the message," she said, keeping her tone steady, "but it's not my decision who he talks to."
The man scoffed, exchanging a look with his companions. "Funny. You know, most people would be more helpful." He looked back at her, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Or maybe you're one of those who needs a little... motivation."
One of his friends stepped forward, his hand inching toward a knife strapped to his belt. The room tensed; a few regulars shifted uneasily, but no one wanted to step in. Midnight Ember was known for staying out of trouble, and no one was going to intervene on behalf of a bartender. Rina knew this all too well.
